Five Lessons Stiles Taught Derek
by cestlavie0919
Summary: Snippets from the lives of Stiles and Derek as they learn from one another throughout their lives. Not canon compliant. Fluff. Lemons. Happiness. Feels.
1. Lesson 1

The little boy with the bright golden-brown eyes looked up, his head tilted to one side and his face mostly concealed by a red hoodie with animal ears on them. He was holding the hand of his father. The backpack on his back was heavy, but mostly because Stiles had insisted on bringing every single one of his toy cars, on the off chance that the kids where he was headed wanted to play.

A tall beautiful woman opened the door. Beside her was a boy Stiles recognized as going to the same school, but that boy was much older. He was a fifth grader whereas Stiles was only in first. The boy was scowling and looked annoyed.

"Mrs. Hale, thank you so much for agreeing to watch him. I would have asked Melissa but she's busy right now," his dad said.

"It's perfectly alright," Mrs. Hale replied, beaming down at Stiles, whose finger was lodged comfortably in his left nostril. "I think he's going to have a lot of fun."

"That's gross!" Derek scoffed, but was unheard because Stiles' father was busy telling Derek's mother what schoolwork needed to be finished before Stiles would be allowed to play with his toys.

"He also has a tendency to give away his stuff so if you could keep an eye on that… I'd rather not have to buy him all new things, you know?" his dad said quietly, as if Stiles wasn't even there. They always talked about him like he wasn't there. It hurt his feelings.

Mrs. Hale chuckled. "I'll certainly make sure he leaves with everything he came here with."

Stiles' dad crouched down, looking into his son's eyes. "I'm sorry buddy. I've gotta go. Mrs. Hale will take good care of you, though. I'll see you later tonight." With that, his dad wrapped his arms around him and his backpack and pulled him tight. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," Stiles replied quietly as Mrs. Hale took his small hand in her larger, soft ones and lead him inside her giant house to the kitchen table where she set him up to work on his math.

"Derek, you've got homework too," she said. "Why don't you get started on it and maybe you can help Stiles if he needs it."

Derek sighed loudly and went upstairs to grab his school books. Stiles opened the workbook and immediately began on the page he had left off. He got through the addition problems rather quickly because he simply counted on his fingers and then moved on to the subtraction. The first few were easy, but then when the problems got larger, he began getting confused. "Hey Dewek," he said softly, trying to disguise the fact that he still had a problem pronouncing the letter 'r' correctly.

"What?" Derek replied, not bothering to disguise how annoyed he was.

"I need help," Stiles said simply.

"What's the problem?" Derek asked, not looking up from his science textbook.

"It is thirty minus nineteen," he said. "But you can't take anything away from zero… it's already zero… how am I supposed to take away nine?"

"You borrow it from the three," Derek said.

"But if you borrow, you have to give it back. My mommy says that borrowing is only okay if you give it back because if you don't give it back, it's stealing and stealing is wrong and you'll go to time out if you steal," Stiles said. "The zero can't give back to the three so it shouldn't borrow."

Derek sat the book down. "What?" he asked in astonished disbelief.

"If it can't give it back, that's stealing!" Stiles repeated indignantly.

"It's just numbers. Numbers can't steal. Here," he said, moving around to Stiles' side of the table. He explained the process more calmly than he ever imagined possible, having to repeat it for the next few problems until Stiles had mastered it.

They worked in silence after that until they were both done.

Stiles climbed down from his chair and zipped open his backpack. He reached in and pulled out a matchbox car. It was blue with a fiery emblem down the side. It was his favorite. He handed it to Derek. "Will you play with me?" he asked.

"Will you leave me alone if I don't?" Derek asked.

"Nope," Stiles replied honestly.

Derek rolled his eyes and conceded. "What are we playing?"

Stiles shrugged. "Let's pwetend!" Suddenly the carpet of the living room, where they had moved into, became a flat desert landscape, the furniture was mountain ranges and steep plateaus that existed to impede the drivers and the race was on. Every detail was so perfect in his mind's eye that he was _certain_ that Derek could see it too. "It's going to be so fun!" he said quietly to himself as he fished for another car to play with himself.

And so the two boys busied themselves for a couple of hours. Occasionally there would be a slight squabble as they bickered over the details of the terrain. "It's just carpet!" Derek said exasperatedly.

"Nuh uh!" Stiles would insist. How could Derek not see it?

"Why is your name Stiles?" Derek asked after a while. "That's a strange name."

"It isn't weally my name," Stiles confessed.

Derek cocked his head to the side, genuinely interested, for the first time, in what the kid had to say. "Then what is?"

"Stanw-" he started. He actually attempted to say it a few different times before his face fell and he finally admitted the truth. "I don't know how to say it."

Talia brought them a dinner of hot dogs and water. Stiles asked for his to be broken up a bit. He also wanted an insane amount of ketchup. After dinner, they played outside. Derek was shocked to realize it was less-begrudgingly than he thought. They were in the tree house in a large oak that took up the majority of the yard. "We could play house!" Stiles suggested. "You be the dad and I can be the mom!"

"We can't play house," Derek said. "We're both boys."

"Mommy says boys can mawwy boys," Stiles said. "And besides… girls have cooties. I don't want to be mawwied to someone who has cooties. I want to be mawwied to someone cool who likes playing with cars! Like you."

"That's stupid. Girls don't have cooties," Derek said. "And boys can't marry boys."

"My mommy said!" Stiles exclaimed indignantly.

"Well your mom isn't here!" Derek said firmly and the younger boy sat down and began to cry. "Why are you crying?" Derek asked, trying to figure out a way to get him to stop before his mom heard and he found himself in trouble for hurting the little brat's feelings.

"I miss my mommy," Stiles managed to say through loud sobs.

Derek inched cautiously toward the kid, whose hood was now askew. His eyes were red and his face was stained with dirt and tears. "Where is your mom?" he asked.

"The hop-pistol," Stiles sniffed as his lower lip trembled. He was trying to stop crying. He didn't want Derek to think he was a cry baby. He wanted Derek to think he was nice.

"I'm sorry," Derek replied, scooting markedly closer. He put his arm around the trembling young boy. "I didn't mean it."

"I forgive you," Stiles said softly, resting his head against Derek's shoulder. He stayed still for the first time in hours before a large yawn wracked his tiny body. "Dewek, will you tell me a story?"

"Okay," Derek replied, his eyes searching the air in front of him for a moment as he thought of one. He had grown up hearing bed-time stories that he knew were a little different than the ones his friends at school had grown up listening to. He settled on one of his favorites, which he was certain Stiles had never heard before. "Once upon a time," he began. "There was a young werewolf…"

Stiles began shaking his head. "No!" he interrupted. "No stories about werewolves! I hate werewolves!"

Derek swallowed hard. He struggled to try not to be personally offended by that comment because little did the boy know, he was a werewolf. "Why do you hate werewolves?" he asked calmly.

"Because they're evil and scary," Stiles said swiftly.

Derek winced, trying to remind himself that the kid was unaware. "What if I told you I was a werewolf?" he asked.

"You can't be!" Stiles said.

"Why not?" Derek asked heatedly.

Stiles snuggled closer to him. "Because you're not evil and scary. You're nice. You play cars with me. You're my friend."

"Some werewolves can be nice," Derek maintained. "Would you be friends with a nice werewolf?"

To Derek's surprise, Stiles let out a high boyish giggle. "That's silly… There's no such thing."

The hopeful smile that had found itself on Derek's face faded away and instead of the story he was going to tell, he told the story of Little Red Riding Hood where the wolf was evil and scary. As Stiles fell asleep, leaning against him, a tear rolled down Derek's hard face as he looked out the window of the tree house and saw the nearly-full moon hanging low and bright in the sky. He began crying a little harder as he asked himself a simple, yet surprisingly hard question: Just because I'm a werewolf, does that mean I'm evil and scary?

And that was how Stiles Stilinski taught Derek Hale to be wary of humans.


	2. Lesson 2

The next time Derek Hale saw Stiles Stilinski, it was the summer before his Freshman Year in high school. Derek was excited to be going to Beacon Hills High School. He wanted to be on the basketball team like his Uncle Peter, and his mom had impressed upon him that he was in no way to use his newly-expanding powers to help him in the tryouts that would be happening in a few weeks' time.

His mom woke him up early on a Saturday. "I need you to shower and get dressed," she said solemnly. "Dress in your absolute best clothes."

"Why?" Derek asked groggily.

"You know the Sheriff's Deputy we helped fund for his campaign to become the Sheriff?" Talia asked.

"Yeah. You watched his son once when I was in grade school," Derek said, the memory of the young boy's moral absolutism in regards to lycanthropes came back to him in a rush. He no longer held it against the kid. It was smart of the squishy little human to be afraid of werewolves. Some of them were really dangerous.

"Well, John's wife, Claudia, died and today is the funeral. I think we should pay our respects. Laura is getting Cora dressed. Breakfast will be ready when you come downstairs."

He crawled out of bed and headed to the bathroom he shared with Cora and turned on the water. He wasn't angry to find that his sister had used all the hot water, because he actually enjoyed cold showers. They made him feel alive and awake. When he got out, he wrapped the towel around himself and headed back into his room where he pulled a neatly organized outfit from his closet and put it on.

The smells of bacon, eggs, and toast were hitting him, causing his stomach to growl longingly. It rose turning into a growl from his throat. The meat was making his inner wolf want to kill. He quickly went to his desk and pulled out the wooden talisman with the triskele symbol of the Hale family. "Alpha, Beta, Omega," he said, shaking. "Alpha, Beta, Omega."

As if summoned, Talia Hale appeared in his doorway. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," Derek replied. "I just lost control for a moment. It's because I'm hungry."

"Alright," she said. "You might want to keep that with you today."

"I will," he said softly, pushing it into his pocket. After a moment, he walked up to his mom and hugged her tightly. "Thank you for being here for me. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

"You would go on," Talia said. "It would hurt, but your sisters would need you, and you would need them. Remember, the triskele has many meanings. Alpha, Beta, and Omega are just one. It also means birth, life, and death. It happens to all of us, Derek. One day I'll die and one of you will take my place."

"Are you worried about dying?" Derek asked.

"In a way," Talia replied. "But mostly because I want to make sure I'm able watch you and your sisters grow up and become the fantastic people you're all destined to become. But I'm not afraid of death. It's as natural as our pull to the full moon. It is inevitable. And it doesn't do to worry about something you cannot change."

Derek thought about what his mom said and hugged her tighter. His stomach gave another loud growl and the two of them laughed. "Let's get you downstairs," Talia said, smiling broadly, allowing her son to lead the way.

When they were all done with breakfast, they piled into the car and headed to the funeral. Derek stared straight ahead, thinking about the conversation he'd had with his mother. He looked over at his sisters who sat on either side of him. He and Laura were closer in age than he and Cora, but he loved them just the same. His heart skipped a beat and a knot formed in his throat when he thought about them dying. He had to blink back tears. He felt almost lucky that he didn't have many memories of his father. Only a vague image came to his mind when he thought about his dad.

When the service was over, everyone left the chapel and headed to the Stilinskis' house. The scent of grief hung chokingly thick in the air. It made Derek feel as though he couldn't breathe. There was a woman named Melissa who was tending to the food as Sheriff-Elect Stilinski spoke with Derek's mother. Halfway through the conversation Mr. Stilinski paused. "Where is Stiles?" he asked.

"I think I saw him head upstairs," Talia said.

"He should be down here with the guests," Mr. Stilinski grumbled.

"I can go get him," Derek offered, hoping to get out of the room for a moment.

"Thank you," Mr. Stilinski replied and Derek headed up the long flight of stairs.

He sniffed the air. The scent of morning still invaded his nostrils, but it wasn't as strong as it had been on the first floor. He could pick out the fresh smell of Stiles and as he turned down the hallway, he could see that the boy's door was open and Stiles was lying on his side on his bed, clutching a framed photograph to his chest as he sobbed.

It seemed incredibly rude to interrupt the moment Stiles was having. He couldn't imagine what the kid was going through. He had been so young when his dad passed away that he didn't really have to process it in the same way, but Stiles was old enough to understand it, old enough to feel the painful sting of losing a parent.

Slowly and incredibly hesitantly, Derek rapped his knuckles on the door frame. Stiles immediately sat up and wiped the tears from his face. His eyes were red and swollen and there were dark bags under them that told Derek that he hadn't slept. "Your father was looking for you," Derek said. "I'm really sorry for your loss. I wish I hadn't bugged you."

"Thanks," Stiles sniffed, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table. "I just needed a moment. I'll be down in a second." He placed the frame back on the place where it had been. The photo showed the side-profile of a beautiful woman kissing the cheek of a toddler with the brightest golden-brown eyes that Derek had ever seen. Happiness and love seemed to emanate from the photo.

"If you want to talk about it," Derek offered hesitantly, "I'm sure they won't miss us too much."

"I just can't believe she's gone, you know?" Stiles said, his voice cracking badly toward the end and he looked as though he was going to cry again. Derek could feel the anguish rolling off of him and hurried to his side, wishing he could somehow make it go away. It was awful seeing another living being endure this. "I keep thinking that any minute now, I'll wake up and this will all have been a terrible dream."

"Sometimes reality is the most awful thing we have to contend with on a given day," Derek said.

Stiles wiped his eyes again. "You must think I'm still that toddler who fell asleep on you in your treehouse," he said, trying, unnecessarily, to put on a brave face.

"Not at all," Derek replied, honestly surprised that Stiles even remembered that, since they hadn't once seen each other since that night. "What you're going through right now is awful. No kid should lose their parent like that."

"And the worst thing is they're down there eating food and drinking wine like it's some kind of _party_ ," Stiles said, spitting the last word out like it tasted bitter on his tongue.

"We can stay up here if you want," Derek suggested, trying to be helpful.

"My dad will get mad," Stiles mumbled in reply. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, by the way. Most people just ask me how I'm doing."

"That's useless," Derek said plainly and Stiles cracked a grin before remembering he shouldn't smile yet.

"Will you stay near me and run interference?" Stiles asked. "Scott was supposed to be here and do that for me, but his dad is being an ass and won't let him come."

"Who's Scott?" Derek asked.

"He's my best friend," Stiles replied. "Ironically enough, I met him shortly after I met you."

"Sure," Derek replied. "I'll keep people from asking you the useless question."

Stiles hugged Derek and innocently took his hand, leading him downstairs, where they remained for the rest of the time, Derek finding creative ways to keep people from asking Stiles "How are you doing?" or pulling him into upsetting stories about their memories of Claudia Stilinski. Even then, by the end of it, Derek could tell that Stiles was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted by the entire thing.

The Hales all helped with the clean-up and Stiles and Derek retreated back up to his room where Stiles unabashedly took off his clothes down to his boxer briefs and crawled into bed. To help protect his modesty, Derek turned around while he was exposed and only turned back to ask if there was anything else Stiles needed.

"Yeah," Stiles replied. "I just wanted to say it was good seeing you. We should hang out again."

"Alright," Derek said and grabbed a pen and a piece of blank paper from Stiles' desk, jotting down the number to his house. "If you ever want to talk, just call."

"Thank you, Derek. I don't know how I would have gotten through today without you," Stiles said softly. Derek was unsure how to respond, so he simply wished the human a good night and walked out, closing the door behind him.

As he joined his mother and sisters in the foyer, Derek found himself hoping that Stiles would call. The boy needed someone to talk to. He needed an outlet.

And that was how Stiles Stilinski taught Derek Hale that an act of compassion can begin an amazing friendship.


	3. Lesson 3

Years passed. Stiles and Derek remained friends, though when Scott finally returned to live with his mother, Derek was shuffled to the wayside. They hung out occasionally, though it was far less-often. When Stiles finally got to BHHS, he joined the lacrosse team. Derek went to every game, despite the fact that Stiles never once stepped foot on the field, though was often more encouraging than the cheer leaders.

Scott often sat next to him and the two would chat the entire time. Derek listened in on some of the conversations and smiled to himself.

In turn, Stiles attended Derek's basketball games that year. It was Derek's senior year, after all, and he was captain of the basketball team. They also had an undefeated season and were going to head to the championships. Stiles was immensely proud of his friend and often sat with Derek's family, cheering him on as he scored basket after basket, occasionally making saves that seemed physically impossible.

The championship game was actually held at Beacon Hills High School and Derek was surging with energy in the days leading up to it. He sat with Stiles and Scott at the lunch table, nearly vibrating with excitement.

"I just can't believe this!" he said again and again, a seemingly permanent smile plastered on his face. Stiles would just smile admiringly at him and Scott would roll his eyes.

The lacrosse team's goalie, a strikingly handsome boy of Hawaiian descent sat at the table with Jackson, the captain of the Lacrosse team, also strikingly handsome. Stiles cocked his head to the side as he watched their interaction. "Why does Danny never notice me?" he asked.

"Nobody at that table notices us," Scott replied. "Because we're nobodies."

"I notice you guys," Derek said.

"Yeah, but you've been friends with Stiles most of his life," Scott replied bitterly.

"I didn't mean it like that," Stiles clarified. "I mean… he's hit on both of you, but never me. Am I just not attractive to gay guys? The gay guys never notice me…"

"Why do you even care?" Scott asked, biting into his apple. "You're not gay."

"I could be!" Stiles defended and both Derek's and Scott's eyes widened. "And Danny could be missing out on a fine piece of ass!"

"So you're a bottom?" Derek asked inquisitively. He felt himself hardening beneath the table.

Stiles shrugged. "I'm not saying I'm gay… I'm just saying that if a guy like Danny asked me out, I wouldn't necessarily say no… and I'm also not saying that I'm a bottom, just so we're clear… it's just Danny is so obviously a pitcher. He's an Alpha. I'm not an Alpha."

"So you're looking for an Alpha?" Derek asked, chuckling as his cock grew inexplicably harder. He had no idea why this conversation was turning him on the way it was. He also didn't know why suddenly it seemed as if there was nobody else in the room. There was a bright circle of light around Stiles. Nobody else mattered at that moment. Stiles was in his sights. It was as if Stiles were some sort of prey that he wanted to hunt, but not to kill. He wanted to claim the prey, but also protect it from anyone else who might have the same intentions. This wasn't the first time Derek had felt this way about Stiles, but it _was_ the first time he had ever had a difficult time controlling this feeling.

"I've known you pretty much your entire life," Scott interjected, bringing Derek back to the conversation, though he was still incredibly hard under the table. "You're not gay. You've been in love with Lydia Martin since like the 3rd grade."

"And she's been with Jackson since middle school and that doesn't seem like it's going to stop any time soon," Stiles pointed out.

"So just because you can't have Lydia Martin, you're going to start sucking dick?" Scott demanded, his disbelief was dripping off of his voice.

"Who knows?" Derek joked. "It may be his undiscovered talent." He realized as soon as the words left his mouth that he was only half-joking and he actually kind of wanted to find out if there was any truth to it. "Besides… I've known Stiles for just as long as you have and there are important things about me that he doesn't know." His eyes didn't leave Stiles.

"Because guys don't share stuff with one another like girls do," Scott replied.

"You're so close-minded, Scott," Derek said antagonistically, getting up from the table to throw away his trash. "You should really work on that."

The bell rang and Scott and Stiles parted from Derek, as the two freshman had PE and Derek was headed to Calculus, on opposite ends of the school. As soon as they were out of earshot, Scott began to vent. "We need to start hanging out somewhere else for lunch."

"Why? Derek is basically a school hero right now. We're going to win the state championships because of him. He's making us cool by association!" Stiles replied. "And he's one of my oldest friends…"

"He's creepily obsessed with you," Scott said. "Don't you see it?"

"He's just awkward around people," Stiles said, defending Derek.

"We're freshmen. He's a senior. He's had three extra years to find friends his own age to hang out with and yet he hangs out with us. Every. Day," Scott complained.

"Why does it matter?" Stiles demanded. "Are you jealous or something?"

"No," said Scott coolly. "But you have to admit, there's something off about him."

"I'm going to stop you right there, because you're really pissing me off," Stiles said, placing a threatening hand on Scott's chest. "You don't like him. I get it. But keep your opinions to yourself because I don't want to hear them. He's my friend. You're my friend, too, but if you want me to choose, be prepared for the answer because true friends don't make ultimatums about friends' friends."

"You said 'friends' too many times," Scott said.

"I know you're failing English class, but try to keep up," Stiles snarked nastily before setting off, staying a few paces in front of Scott.

He spent the rest of the day not talking to Scott. In fact, he actively ignored him. He even ditched him after school, speeding out of the parking lot as Scott tried to walk up to his jeep. Stiles knew he was Scott's ride, but he was too pissed to care at that moment.

He came to regret that decision, however, when his afternoon jerk off session was interrupted by Derek calling him. "Stiles, I need you to come to my place," he said frantically. "It's Scott. He's hurt…"

Guilt welled up inside Stiles, who let the phone fall from his hand. Derek had not given any details, but Stiles still knew that if he had given Scott the ride he was supposed to, Scott would never have been in a situation that would have caused him injury. Stiles was, much to his father's surprise (and firm relief), a very careful driver.

All of that went out the window, however, as Stiles sped through stop signs and red lights, nearly causing no fewer than four crashes in his attempt to get to the Hale mansion near the Beacon Hills Preserve. He sped into the driveway and left his door hanging open as he ran into the house.

Talia, Derek, and his sisters were in the living room, crowded around Scott who was lying motionless on the couch, a huge jagged wound oozing blood from his side. "What happened?" Stiles asked, his voice getting caught in his throat.

"Stiles you should sit down," Talia said softly.

"Is he dead?" Stiles asked timidly, tears forming in his eyes.

"No, he's not dead," Talia replied, suppressing the urge to add the word "yet" because she knew that would only serve to worry him more.

"What was it?" Stiles asked, hesitantly lowering himself into a chair.

"A wolf," Cora replied.

"There aren't any wolves in California," Stiles said dismissively. "It couldn't have been a wolf."

"It's a different kind of wolf," Talia said. "One you may have heard of, but never believed existed."

Stiles didn't like being treated with kid gloves. "What… a werewolf?" he snapped with sarcastic anger, wanting Talia to get to the point.

"Yes," she replied.

Rage boiled up in him. "Is this some kind of practical joke? Because it's not funny. Either that's really good stunt makeup or he's seriously injured and you're standing around making jokes about werewolves when you should be bringing him to a hospital!"

"It isn't a joke, Stiles," Derek said softly. "A werewolf really _did_ attack Scott."

"Werewolves don't fucking exist, Derek!" Stiles snapped. "I'm not a fucking idiot! Now call 911!"

Derek stood up and exchanged a look with his mother, who nodded subtly. Derek then looked back at Stiles, who was standing again, his face reddening with anger. Stiles watched as Derek's face changed. It became fierce and wolfish. His normally perfect teeth suddenly became fangs. Hair sprouted where it had not previously been and his normally soft green eyes began to glow a piercingly icy bright blue. His fingertips grew long sharp claws. His already strong build became incredibly more pronounced and muscular. It seemed as if his shirt was straining at the seams to hold the new bulk.

"You did it," Stiles accused. "You attacked him!"

"It wasn't me! It wasn't any of us. It was my uncle," Derek said, his fangs and claws receding and his face and body returning to normal.

"My brother has always been a bit of a wild card. He left our Pack and became an Alpha, it seems. And unfortunately, his first act seems to have been to attack your friend," Talia said as Laura placed a wet washcloth on Scott's forehead.

"Don't touch him!" Stiles commanded, though he was too afraid of them to move any closer.

"Stiles please," Derek begged. "We're trying to help him. He's going to need us if he's going to survive."

"He needs a doctor and to be far away from you. All of you!" Stiles said. "Let me take him with me or I'm calling my dad."

"Stiles wait…" Derek said as the human lifted Scott up, supporting his weight as best he could, trying to drag him to the jeep. "We're trying to help! Stiles please don't go… you're my best friend…"

Stiles could hear the tears and the lump forming in Derek's throat. He was feeling his own tears stinging his eyes. "I've known you since first grade," Stiles said as he lifted Scott's unconscious body into the jeep. "You never told me."

"I tried to back then," Derek reminded him. "You told me that I couldn't be a werewolf because I wasn't evil or scary. Those were your exact words."

"I was just a kid!" Stiles said. "You've had plenty of opportunity since then. No fucking wonder you're about to get the basketball championship. You're using your freaky werewolf mojo to win!"

"Stiles, stop," Derek whimpered as the human walked around to the driver's side and climbed up in. "Please don't go."

"Why does it matter so much that I leave? Do you want to turn me into a monster like you, too?" Stiles snapped.

"Take it back," Derek said. He meant for it to sound forceful, like a command, but it came out as a pleading whimper.

"No. I'm getting him actual medical help," Stiles said defiantly. He could tell he was hurting Derek's feelings, but in that moment he didn't care. Derek had lied to him their entire friendship. Had he been thinking rationally, he would have realized Derek had lied because he was afraid of the very same reaction he was getting. But Stiles wasn't thinking rationally. He was thinking in survival mode. "I'm his best friend. It's my job to get him help. It's your job to deal with the other freaks, like the ones who attack innocent people."

"Fine," Derek said firmly. By this point, Talia, Laura, and Cora were all standing there. "But what are you going to do when _he_ becomes a freak and a monster too? Because he will. The bite does two things. It either turns you or… it kills you." His voice broke a bit as he said the last part.

"Stiles, you've been like family to us," Talia tried to reason. She understood why the boy was lashing out the way he was. But as the matriarch and the Alpha, it was her job to protect her pack, even emotionally. She ordered her children to go inside and slowly approached the jeep. Derek lingered the longest. "Scott will be fine. He's probably already healed. I can barely smell the blood at this point. Our biggest priority now is your safety. When he wakes up, he may not have control and you'll be trapped in a metal box going 50 miles per hour. He'll survive a crash like that. You won't."

Stiles looked at Scott. She was right. The wound that had been so gaping on his side, was mostly sealed now. There were only a few quickly vanishing scabs. His grip on the door slacked a bit. "You all lied to me."

"I know," she said softly. "But they only did it because I told them to. They wouldn't have been able to tell the truth even if they tried. If you're going to be angry or blame someone, blame me. My children love you, Stiles. And Derek loves you the most. He has only ever had your best interest at heart. There was a time when he couldn't control his powers and if you would have known about them, you would have been in serious harm's way." Stiles set his jaw in a way that told Talia he didn't believe her. She tried relaxing her features even further. "Stiles, you've been over at our house for 4th of July and Labor Day cookouts. We would never want to hurt you."

"But you did," Stiles said. "And you put my best friend in danger." Even as he said it, he could see Scott stirring from the corner of his eye.

"He's going to need help adjusting. He's going to need an Alpha who won't compel him to do harmful things, Stiles. Scott is in danger. You are in danger. It's my job to protect you," Talia said. "Both of you. But it's first and foremost my job to protect my son, so if you decide to accept my help, you owe him an apology for what you said."

Stiles kicked the tip of his shoe into the dirt. "I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't," Talia said understandingly. "And to an extent, I'm pretty sure Derek does, too. But he needs to hear you say it."

Scott climbed out of the jeep. "Why is my shirt ripped and how did I get here?" he asked groggily.

Talia moved closer to him and motioned for Stiles to go find Derek. The interior of the house was incredibly familiar to him, but it seemed somehow more surreal. Cora was pretending to read on the couch. "Where's Derek?" Stiles asked. She ignored him. "Cora?"

"Oh so you're noticing the freaks now?" she snapped, not looking up from her book.

"I didn't mean what I said," Stiles said apologetically. "I was lashing out."

"Save it," Cora said.

Laura was turning the corner from the hallway. "He's in his room. And we accept your apology."

Stiles smiled. He slowly climbed the stairs to Derek's room. It was unabashedly manly, though without the normal accompanying odor. There were a couple of posters for sports teams on the wall, but other than that, there were no decorations and it was impeccably clean.

"Did you have an easy time buying a ticket to the circus?" Derek asked moodily.

"I deserved that," Stiles said.

"You know… I've never judged you for any of the weird shit you've done," Derek said. "I've always accepted you for exactly who you were, even when it wasn't what I wanted you to be."

"When have I failed to live up to your expectations?" Stiles asked.

"I don't know… how about 10 minutes ago when you insulted me and every member of my family?" Derek snapped.

"Okay," Stiles said. "I deserved that, too. But other than that… when have I let you down?"

"My sophomore year," Derek said. "I reached out to you for help when my girlfriend died. You wouldn't give me the time of day because you were too absorbed in your own life… and in your friendship with Scott."

"Paige…" Stiles whispered.

"Yes," Derek replied, sitting up. His voice cracked a bit, but the tears began to flow as he spoke. "She died because of me. Because I wanted to change her so she would accept me. I asked another Alpha to bite her and her rejected it. She was in agony. I couldn't siphon it off. It was too much. The only thing I could do was end her suffering."

"Derek I'm so sorry," Stiles said.

Derek grabbed a tissue from his bedside table and wiped his nose. "It's not fair of me to expect you to…" he took a moment to figure out how he wanted to word it. "To care about me the way I care about you."

"What I said… how I acted… it was out of line and I'm so sorry," Stiles said before he realized what Derek said. "Wait what? You care about me?"

"Yeah," Derek said, through his tears. "A lot, really. But I kept silent because I didn't want to ruin what we already have because it's good."

Stiles moved to Derek's bed. "How long have you felt this way?"

Derek shrugged. "It comes in waves. It's stronger when you do certain really cute things. It gets weaker when you do things like call me a freak and a monster."

"I'm so sorry for what I said," Stiles said again. From where he was sitting, he could see Talia and Scott still talking downstairs.

"I accept your apology on the condition that you never say anything like that again," Derek said.

"Agreed."

Derek gave a shudder and Stiles asked what was wrong. "I think Scott just joined our Pack."

Stiles cautiously leaned against Derek. Then rested his head against Derek's shoulder. "I like you too, you know," he said. "I just didn't think you thought of me that way."

"You underestimate yourself," Derek said. "You always have."

And that was how Stiles Stilinski taught Derek Hale to forgive people who are truly repentant and deserving of his forgiveness.


	4. Lesson 4

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked as he sat down on the blanket Derek was laying out in a clearing. They were in the preserve. "There's a serial killer targeting virgins and we're in the same wooded area where two of them have been found."

"You're with me. Nothing bad will happen to you," Derek said. "And you're going to graduate in a bit and maybe move off to college and start your life. We need to make this time special."

Stiles peeked into the picnic basket. "You seem to think that me going to college means that it's the end of us."

"Doesn't it?" Derek asked sadly.

"Of course not!" Stiles said, hotly. "I love you."

"I know you do. And I love you, too. But just because we love each other doesn't mean that I don't want you to find happiness somewhere else if that's your destiny," Derek said.

"And if I do, then we'll have to figure that out then. But I'm more concerned with the fact that I'm in the target demographic for a serial killer and as gorgeous as this dinner under the stars will be, I don't think I will be able to enjoy it if I'm afraid of getting murdered," Stiles said.

"Then maybe we should put your mind at ease," Derek said, his hand moving to the picnic basket. Stiles thought he was going to pick it up, but instead, he reached into it, fumbling around and pulled out a package of condoms, a bottle of lube, and a towel. "Would you be able to enjoy the picnic I packed if you were no longer—as you said it—in the target demographic?"

Though it was dark, Derek saw the way Stiles' face moved in surprise. "You want us to have sex…"

"Only if you also want it, of course," Derek clarified. "We've been together for a few years… you're 18 now and it's legal. But again, we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable doing."

"Hey Derek?" Stiles said.

"Yeah?" Derek replied.

"Shut up and de-virginize me," Stiles replied playfully. Derek smiled back and crawled on top of his boyfriend. Their lips met. At first it was a playful grazing, then it became more insistent and demanding. Stiles' hands reached up, caressing Derek's back beneath his shirt, tracing perfectly the lines where the spiral tattoo was forever marked into the werewolf's skin. Stiles could feel Derek growing hard, just as he was already at full-mast. He ground his hips up against his boyfriend's and let his hands slip slowly into Derek's pants.

"What would you like to try first?" Derek asked as they paused their kisses for air.

Stiles thought for a moment before replying that he wanted to give Derek a blowjob. They ripped each other out of their clothes, tangling their bodies again as passionate kisses distracted them yet again. Derek reached down, grasping Stiles' hard length. His hand became instantly wet as Stiles was already leaking copious amounts of pre-cum. Stiles moaned into Derek's mouth as the rough hand began pumping his length. "I thought I was going to suck you off first?" Stiles asked, an air of disappointment tainting his voice.

"I got a little carried away," Derek chuckled. "I've wanted you for so long."

"I still don't know why you waited as long as you did," Stiles said as he slid out from under Derek and the two swapped places. Derek reclined with his legs spread wide open, the massive veiny cock pulsing in its desire to fill up any part of Stiles that would have it. Stiles took it in his grasp. It felt even larger than it looked, which was saying something. He gazed at it in the moonlight, regarding it as one might guard a treasured toy. A bead of pre-cum dripped down the large head and onto Stiles' fingers as he lowered his head and wrapped his lips around it. Derek moaned little encouragements as Stiles ran his tongue down the shaft.

Stiles found that if he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could get a good three-fourths of Derek's cock in his mouth without gagging. He began challenging himself to get all of it, trying several times until he heard Derek gasp and felt a warm viscous fluid fill his mouth. "I'm so sorry," Derek said between pants of ecstasy. "I meant to warn you…"

"It's alright," Stiles said, letting it sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing it. "I wanted to taste you, anyway. Will you fuck me, now?"

"Eager," Derek smiled. "Aren't you?" He grabbed the bottle of lube and began the work of prepping Stiles, who grunted and moaned as Derek's deft fingers moved in and out of him. When he was sufficiently pleased with the job he had done, he wiped his fingers on the towel and grabbed a condom.

Stiles stopped him. "My first time… I want to really _feel_ you," he said.

"Are you sure?" Derek asked.

"How many people have you been with?" Stiles asked, realizing how awkward that question might be for Derek to answer in that moment. "And it's not like werewolves can get STDs, right?"

Derek smiled. "No, werewolves can't carry the normal human STDs. And you're also my first."

"Really?" Stiles asked, leaning forward, supporting his own weight with his forearms.

"Really," replied Derek.

"Then I definitely want it to be just us… skin against skin," Stiles said.

Derek nodded and kissed Stiles again before lining himself up and slowly easing his cock into Stiles. It was tight and hot and inviting. It was scary and magical and blissful. He focused his hearing and used his extra senses to read Stiles' body. Once he had managed to ease himself entirely inside, he waited, allowing Stiles to adjust. "How does it feel?" he asked.

"Honestly?" Stiles replied.

"Yeah."

"It feels like I have to shit," he answered honestly. "But in a good way… if that makes any sense?"

Derek chuckled and leaned down and whispered into Stiles' ear. "We're no longer virgins."

Stiles giggled in a way that reminded Derek of the very first time he set eyes on the boy all those years ago.

And that was how Stiles Stilinski taught Derek Hale to love another person even more than he loved himself.


	5. Lesson 5

"Is it me or is it hotter than Satan's left nut in here?" Stiles asked, staring in the mirror. Both his father and Scott chuckled.

"Can you believe it?" Scott asked.

"I keep expecting to wake up and realize that all of this is a dream," Stiles admitted.

"I think it runs in the Stilinski blood," replied John proudly.

"What does?"

"Finding your soulmate young," John said.

"What if I lose him young… like you lost mom?" Stiles asked.

"The risk of losing someone you love is always there," Scott replied. "How much you fear it is a testament to how much you love that person."

"I'm terrified," Stiles said.

"Then you'll have a wonderful marriage," John said, building on the piece of wisdom offered by Scott.

Music could be heard in the chapel. "That's our cue," Scott said, heading to the door of the room. Stiles and John followed.

"Are you ready for this?" John asked.

Stiles took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing pulse, but it didn't help. "Y-yes," he stammered.

He hoped he could get that under control enough to be able to say his vows. He had a degree in communications and broadcasting, for Christ's sake.

The march down the aisle seemed to take forever, but Stiles didn't care. Derek had never looked more handsome. He had wanted to shave, but Stiles made him promise not to. His tux had been hand-made exclusively for him. He was a vision. The church had more than 200 people in it and still, Stiles only noticed one.

When the ceremony started, Stiles held Derek's hands and looked into his liquid green eyes. They were full of tears, but then again, so were his own. They were tears of pure joy, though, and both men knew it.

Stiles couldn't imagine a happier feeling, and when it came time for him to say those words, he said them clearly and with more conviction than any words he had ever said before.

And that was how Stiles Stilinski-Hale taught Derek Stilinski-Hale that "I do" are the two most satisfying words in the English language.


	6. The Lesson Derek Taught Stiles

The night had been a long one. Talia and Deaton both agreed that it was best if Stiles stay out of the room. He sat at the edge of the chair, his hands clasped and elbows resting on his knees. Every part of his body shook with fear.

"Stiles, I say this with all the love in my heart, but you have _got_ to calm down," Laura said.

"Your emotions are becoming suffocating," Cora added.

"Can you hear what's going on in there?" he asked. "Why can't I be in there with him!"

"Because if he's worried about your reaction, he's not going to do what he needs to do to get through this alive," Laura replied. "This hasn't happened to a werewolf in hundreds of years and the last time it did, he didn't survive."

"Deaton will help him, right?" Stiles asked. "I mean that's the whole reason he's here!"

"It's not that simple, Stiles," Cora said. "Deaton will do his best to keep Derek alive, though. Hopefully his werewolf healing will be able to kick in."

"This is my fault," Stiles said, getting to his feet and pacing the distance from wall to wall in front of the flickering fireplace. "I should have been careful."

"It's nobody's fault," Cora said. "You had no way of predicting that anything like this would happen. Typically speaking, men don't usually get pregnant."

Loud screams issued from the room and Stiles moved as if he were about to run to the source. Laura blocked him. "You can't go in there."

"I should be in there!" Stiles argued, trying to move out of Laura's grasp. He knew it was a stupid idea. She was Talia's second-in-command and therefore the second most powerful werewolf in the pack and he was, as Derek had often reminded him when it seemed he had forgotten, just a squishy, fragile, and all-too accident-prone human.

"He's your husband, I get it. That's your baby… I get that, too. But he's also my brother and you being in there could complicate things. I'm sorry, Stiles, but until mom says you can go in there, you're staying right here," she growled. Her eyes flashed a brilliant gold.

There were several more times when Derek's screams were met with Stiles trying to fight his way through his sisters-in-law to get to his husband's side. It took nearly 10 hours before Talia finally came out, holding a small bundle tenderly in her arms. There were tears on her face. "It's a girl," she said, carefully handing the child to her father. She looked so much like Derek, including the thick black hair she already had.

Stiles was unable to find his voice, so Laura asked the question. "How is Derek?"

"He'll be fine. His healing kicked in immediately. He just needs to rest. He can have visitors in a few hours," Talia said.

Stiles sat down, holding his daughter as she dozed in his arms, swaddled by the blanket. A smile crept across her lips and Stiles wondered if it was because she knew how intensely she was loved by him.

And that was how Derek taught Stiles the true meaning of love at first sight.


End file.
